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Blog Posts (171)
- ॠतु बसंती रे
Nandini Mathur Author, Blog - 'मेरी कलम से' English Summary The poem celebrates the arrival of the spring season, portraying it as a symbol of renewal, freshness, and new life in nature. It vividly describes how the pleasant fragrance of spring fills the air and brings joy to every direction. As winter recedes, the earth stretches comfortably under the warm rays of the sun, and dewdrops gently disappear. Nature comes alive with lush green foliage, blossoming branches, and cheerful birds flying freely in the sky. Mustard fields bloom brightly, mango blossoms spread their sweet aroma, and the cuckoo’s melodious song fills the environment with music. In its concluding imagery, the poem presents spring as the “king of seasons,” arriving like Krishna, beautifully adorned and carrying hopes of new love and joyful union. Overall, the poem is a lyrical celebration of nature’s beauty, harmony, and the promise of fresh beginnings. बसंत ऋतु, जो प्रकृति में पुनर्जन्म, नवीनीकरण और नवजीवन का प्रतीक है, उससे संबंधित हम अपनी एक रचना आप से साझा कर रहे हैं....... ॠतु बसंती रे आई बसंत की ऋतु है आई , मादक सुगंधित पवन चली आई, दिशाएं गूंजी , मन को भाईं, चारों ओर है खुशियां छाईं। शीतकालीन सुषुप्त धरा ने, शुरू किए अब पांव पसारने, हटी ओस की चादर तन से , खेल रहीं सूर्य की किरणें मुख पे। हरे-हरे नए पल्लव उमगे, डाली-डाली सजी फूलों से , गाते गुनगुनाते पंछी गगन में , पंख फैलाकर उड़े मस्ती में । खेतों में है सरसों फूली, आम्र मंजरी की ख़ुश्बू महकी , कोयलिया ने गाए मधुर गीत , धरती झूमी, बहा संगीत । राधा रानी सी, अनुपम छबि लिए, प्रकृति दुल्हन बनी सज धज कर , ऋतुराज आए हैं कान्हा बनकर , नवल किशोरी से मिलने कीआस लिए।
- The Road Revisited.
Sangeetha Rao Homechef @ Little Treats Instagram Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both… The train hummed steadily as it sliced through the countryside, fields blurring into soft washes of green and gold. Sheetal rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the world pass her by. Robert Frost’s words played on a quiet loop in her mind, as insistent as the rhythm of the tracks beneath her feet. Thirty years ago. She could still see herself—fresh out of college in Pune, clutching her first appointment letter with equal parts excitement and fear. That first job had felt like a threshold, a doorway into adulthood. And it was there that she had met Varun. He hadn’t been striking in any conventional sense—average height, unremarkable features—but there was that cocky smile, softened by an unexpected sweetness. He welcomed her into his group as if she had always belonged there. For the first time at work, she felt at ease. Safe. Seen. It was just friendship, she told herself. She poured her energy into learning, growing, and excelling. And she did—so well that another opportunity soon pulled her away. It was only after she left that the absence began to ache. The silence of her phone felt louder than any office buzz. She missed the smile, the easy conversations, the attention she had pretended not to need. She waited for his calls. For weekends. For stolen hours where the world narrowed to just the two of them. When he held her hand for the first time, her heart skipped—an absurd, storybook cliché she had never believed in until it happened to her. But ambition has its own momentum. Promotions came. Cities changed. Life accelerated. Varun tried to keep up, but long days and longer expectations slowly eroded what they had built. Without drama or blame, the relationship thinned until it slipped quietly into memory. Then came Kaushal. He was everything Varun was not—charming, confident, dazzling in his attention. With him, she felt chosen. Extraordinary. Marriage followed swiftly, as did two beautiful children. For a while, she believed she was the luckiest woman alive. But time, relentless and honest, revealed the cracks. Kaushal’s charm turned conditional. His affection became transactional. He demanded attention, bent conversations to his will, measured people by their usefulness. As his career consumed him— deadlines , always deadlines—Sheetal’s world shrank. She stepped away from her own ambitions, telling herself it was temporary, necessary, noble. She stayed for the children. Years passed. The children grew, as children do—into independent adults with lives of their own, carrying both joy and heartbreak in equal measure. She had made her peace with Kaushal, the kind that settles not from forgiveness but from exhaustion. They shared the house the way strangers share a train compartment—polite, functional, brief. Words were replaced by chores, affection by efficiency. Outside, she began to stitch herself back together. She met friends, returned to long-abandoned hobbies, and discovered that the quiet she feared, had been waiting all along to save her. Somewhere along the way, Varun resurfaced —not dramatically, just gently. Birthday messages. Festival greetings. Polite, distant warmth. Over time, the messages grew longer. The conversations deeper. And without realizing it, Sheetal felt herself soften into the woman she had once been—someone who noticed the sky, who found beauty in small things. Now Varun was coming to Pune. Then Mumbai. She had glanced at Kaushal, absorbed in his own world, his screen glowing brighter than any shared moment between them. He wouldn’t miss her. Perhaps he wouldn’t even notice. Some might call her selfish. But what was a life without happiness? Without love? Her fingers hovered for a moment before she typed: Meet me at Casa’s. Same table. As the train slowed, another line from Frost surfaced, tender and unresolved: Yet knowing how way leads on to way,I doubted if I should ever come back. Sheetal smiled. It felt like half a lifetime had slipped away, but life—unpredictable, stubbornly kind—had offered her another crossing. Another choice. Perhaps the poem didn’t need to end where it once had. Some roads, she realized, wait patiently to be walked again.
- TMM – A Love–Hate Story in 21.097K
Manikantan MVL Fitness Enthusast IMC Trading, Linkedin I abhor running. I absolutely do. Don’t get me wrong, but there is no single to take, goal to score, basket to net, no boundaries, or deuces. No cover drives, deceptions, tackles, steals, smashes, drops, or volleys. It is just you on the road, and the thrill is missing. Also getting up at 2:30 am for a 05:15 am start isn't very enticing. I signed up to run my first half marathon during the Tata Mumbai Marathon for a cause. If I ran, IMC would contribute money to charity. It was D-Day, and a broken bone in my hand didn’t stop me from seeing what the running fuss was all about. 1K - I was hoping not to crash with any over-enthusiastic runner, protecting my hand. 3K - just as we hopped on the sealink, I got bored. My mind was convincing me to get back home. 5K - I was wondering how I will finish the remaining 16 km, and started thinking about my work for the week ahead. 8K - I made a roadmap for what I will do at work over the next 4 months. 12K - on the coastal road, I thought about where my wife and I would spend our next three holidays. 13K - Kartik Karkera - the ortho surgeon who won the 42K Indian category, flew past me as we descended down the coastal road interchange. Slowly, self-doubts disappear... 14K - I am coasting, and my mind is exhausted from all the thinking as we enter heartbreak hill - the painful Pedder Road incline. 17K - I am in the moment, soaking in all the cheer from Mumbaikars. But suddenly I feel my calves tighten, it’s cramps! 19K - the run on Marine Drive was an internal battle. Mind is focused only on keeping the body up and running (ambling, actually). We didn’t come so far, only to fall short. 20K - turn into Veer Nariman Road, and the finish line is just there. New-found energy propels the legs towards the finish line. 21.097K - the sweet, happy feeling of crossing that finish line. Oh boy, the pain disappeared! If you are considering running, give the half marathon a shot. It is a test of mental fortitude over physical prowess. It crushes your doubts, makes you persist, and most importantly, helps you rediscover self-belief. I now look forward to recovering and playing my usual sports. But, will I do this again? Jury’s open! A huge thanks to IMC Trading and Karolina Brzozowska for this lovely opportunity.
Forum Posts (6)
- How can I know more about Improv comedyIn General Discussion·7 February 20250117
- How can I know more about Improv comedyIn General Discussion7 February 2025@Abhimanyu Singh ..can u answer to this?00
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